


On The Street Where You Live

by MermaidMelo



Category: My Fair Lady (1964), Pygmalion - Shaw, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMelo/pseuds/MermaidMelo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor comes to call on Loki after the races. He is completely taken by this witty, charming person who has suddenly entered his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Street Where You Live

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this came to me, but I suddenly saw Thor as Freddy from "My Fair Lady"/"Pygmalion" who came to call on Eliza Doolittle and sang his song of love in the street. And then this happened...

Thor approached the decorative front door with only slight hesitation. He was absolutely giddy. Never had he felt this way about anyone before – so lighthearted, the butterflies in his stomach were practically a collection.   
Thor generally found himself bored at the races. He’d been attending them for so long and it was always the same people, his mother’s uptight, snooty friends, the wealthy widowers with young wives, and the ever-present old money families with too much time on their hands.  
But today, today was a gift from the gods. The man had appeared with acquaintances of his mother, people who would otherwise be of no interest to him. But the friend they brought, he was altogether different. The slightest hint of a dignified accent, slim-cut gray day suit, top hat slightly tipped to the side in a casual nature, Loki was introduced as a houseguest of the professor’s.   
The resulting encounter was brilliant. Loki was charming, outspoken, unafraid to engage in conversation with those he did not know. It didn’t even occur to Thor that the professor was uncomfortable with Loki’s behavior. Even if he did know, Thor would not have cared less.   
Though he was sorry that the races had ended (never had they seemed so brief an outing), he was looking forward to paying Loki a visit at the professor’s house, perhaps a chance to speak with him in private. He looked down at the bouquet of roses in his gloved hand and wondered what Loki’s favorite flower might be – he would be sure to ask after his social visit. Next time he would be less nervous, and he would have the confidence to ask Loki to supper.   
He couldn’t help himself. The thought of courting Loki, taking him to supper, asking for his hand, and the resultant wedded bliss found Thor breaking into song. He sang to the birds, to the clouds, even to the occasional passerby. He sang of walking down this very street countless times, passing the house in which Loki now stayed, never dreaming of stopping, never considering the emotion the movement of his feet on this pavement would elicit. He was happy just to be on the street where Loki lived, thrilled at the possibility of seeing Loki’s silhouette at the window.   
He practically hopped up the steps to the front door. The doorbell chimed, and Thor listened for the even steps of the butler or maid likely to answer the door. An elderly woman answered, looking none too pleased at Thor’s presence on the doorstep.  
“Good afternoon sir, I am Mrs. Pearce, head of the household. How may I help you?”  
“Good afternoon, my name is Thor. I had the absolute pleasure of meeting Loki this afternoon. I was hoping to call on him now.”  
“I am very sorry sir, but I’m afraid Loki is refusing to see anyone at the moment. He refuses to leave his room.”  
The smile quickly faded from his lips, but Thor’s resolve remained.  
“Please, if you would just tell him that Thor is calling on him, I’m sure he would want to see me. You see, we had a lovely time together this afternoon and I simply…”  
“Please sir, I advise you to be on your way. Loki will see no one.” Mrs. Pearce was not a patient woman.  
Perhaps the races did not end ideally for Loki. Thor had never met a more cultured, suave man, but his gaff at the end of the races offended many of those around him. Thor was absolutely amused. Although Thor did not know Loki’s family, or anything about his upbringing or heritage, Loki’s general demeanor that afternoon told Thor that he was a gentleman, an educated young man who had a sense of humor and undeniable wit.   
“Well then, perhaps you could give him these roses. And uh, please tell him they’re from me. Incidentally, do you happen to know his favorite type of flower? I want to be sure the next bouquet is to his absolute liking.”  
Mrs. Pearce stared at the bouquet with some dislike. She was not happy with Loki’s presence in the house, and now some young man was attempting to call on him. Mrs. Pearce had no time for this sort of thing.   
“Oh very well.”  
“But you didn’t tell me about the flow-”   
The door slammed in his face. Thor let out a sigh, but his feelings toward Loki would not be denied. He jumped off the stairs with the same song leaving his lips, almost happier than when he first began his journey to Loki’s doorstep. He jumped on the gate, swinging from the bars as the birds in the trees sang along. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki sat in his room, completely depressed. He had spent months under the professor’s tutelage, softening his accent, perfecting his vocabulary, and spending considerable effort developing a taste for literature, poetry, opera, and the overall culture of high society in London. He was so thrilled when he finally achieved his breakthrough. That night, somehow everything had clicked into place.   
The following weeks were filled with even more lessons, even more difficult exercises, but Loki absorbed it all and was thirsty for more. When the professor decided it was finally time to test Loki’s abilities in public, Loki suddenly became unsure of his skills. He was afraid someone would see right through him. He was an uneducated country boy, poor and without much family. He was desperate for a better life, and only an education would provide him the opportunity to succeed. The professor was initially unkind, practically threw him out of the house when he came begging for help, but eventually he relented, and Loki began four frustrating months of lessons and exercises.   
The races would be the perfect venue to test Loki. The professor called a tailor to the house and Loki was fitted with top hat and tails for the occasion. If this afternoon went well, perhaps the professor would then take him to the opera, or even a regal ball. Usually the professor passed on these humdrum, highbrow events, but the opportunity to show off his achievements, his prize, was a thrill that sent shivers down his spine.   
The professor had never had a more eager student. Despite their constant bickering and Loki’s initial resistance to the professor’s methods, Loki had proved the professor’s best student, although the professor would never acknowledge this. He would never let Loki know how proud he was of him. The professor was not an emotional man, his students came and went, and over the years he had developed a staunch indifference toward them. But it was difficult with Loki. Despite the strain in their relationship, the professor could not deny Loki’s natural charm and charisma. Buried beneath the country dirt and thick accent was a polished young man who could conquer anything. But he had to believe in himself. Loki needed to find the courage from within, and only through social engagement could he find his confidence.   
The races proved devastation for the professor and Loki both. The professor was absolutely stunned to find Loki so chatty with people he did not know. Despite his best attempts to culture Loki and hide his origins, Loki’s personality shone through. He was instructed to make only small talk – the weather and perhaps the health of those around him – but it turned into embarrassing talk of drunken uncles, and aunts with mysterious deaths. Loki was comfortable in a crowd of strangers and never once considered his banter as embarrassing or inappropriate. He even found himself charming the well-to-do son of a widow.   
Thor was tall and handsome, if a bit too caught up in Loki’s every word. Loki knew nothing of Thor or his mother, or the other members of their party that afternoon, but if he was able to catch Thor’s eye, then perhaps he was well on his way to blending into high society.  
Thor was the one who gave up his seat in the box so that Loki could join the group. He was the one who always refilled Loki’s cup with tea, and offered sandwiches or cookies from the table. Loki was not used to being waited upon by anyone other than Mrs. Pearce, and even that took getting used to. Thor was the one who gave up his betting ticket and begged Loki to cheer for his horse. And that was what resulted in his gaff.  
He wanted so badly to blame Thor for the embarrassment. Loki was so caught up in the thrill of the race, in the attention he’d received from someone so classy and handsome, he forgot all the professor had taught him, and screamed out obscenities as the race concluded. Everyone around him was appalled. One woman even fainted.   
There was no way he would have made that mistake if Thor had not given him that ticket. His confidence had absolutely peaked at the races. Everyone in the box listened as he spoke, and he was even invited to another social outing by the professor’s elderly mother.   
Now he sat in the gathering darkness of the bedroom that did not belong to him. This life did not belong to him. Perhaps it was just too big a lie. He would never fit in to the world he wanted so desperately to call his own. He tried to reinvent himself, and it ended in awful failure. He was sure he’d never leave this room again, if only to escape the house in the dead of night.  
A knock at his door broke into his morose thoughts.  
“Go away Mrs. Pearce, please. I told you I am not hungry.” His accent was perfect now, even when he wasn’t making a conscious effort.  
“I’m sorry to disturb you Loki, but I have something for you from a young man who came to call.” Although Mrs. Pearce had no time for such things, Loki was still the professor’s pupil, and so long as he was in this house, it was her duty to look after him.  
Loki stood up slowly, confused by what Mrs. Pearce had said. He put down the tear-stained handkerchief and went to the door. He opened the door and found a large bouquet of red roses in a vase. He opened the door wider to reveal Mrs. Pearce’s impatient face.   
“These are for me?” he asked absolutely stunned.  
“Yes. A young man named Thor came to call on you a few moments ago. I told him you would see no one, but he insisted I give you these. It would not do to hand you the bouquet in its wrapping, so I put them in a vase.”   
He took the vase gingerly. He had never received a gift from anyone before, not even the professor, who had been more a father to him than his own father.   
“Thank you.”   
The words barely above a whisper, Mrs. Pearce left his door with some indifference. She didn’t think anything of the gift, or the unfamiliar young man who had wasted her time. But to Loki the bouquet of flowers were the most precious thing he had ever received.   
He looked around the room for the best place to set the vase. The flowers would need sunlight, and so he made his way to the window that overlooked the street. Would Thor still be out there, looking up at him? No, the street was empty but for the lamplighter.   
As the sun set over a London that was still new to Loki, he looked down at the flowers and felt a smile spread across his face. The smile replaced the tears, the shame, and the loss of his earlier confidence. Thor had not been scared away by his actions. He had even insisted that Mrs. Pearce give the flowers to Loki. If Thor still considered Loki someone worthy of his attention, then Loki would not give up. He would continue his studies, and would continue his efforts to become part of a society that would welcome him.  
He could only hope that Thor would come to call on him again tomorrow.


End file.
